


Introduction: Stronger As A Family

by astrangerfate, orphan_account



Series: Flesh, Blood & Heart [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Discipline, Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-25
Updated: 2007-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerfate/pseuds/astrangerfate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A discipline-themed S2 AU wherein John survived the car crash with a broken arm, and all the Winchesters went on their merry way tracking down supernatural things and running into trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No spanking in this introduction; however, the series as a whole is a discipline series. Be aware of that.
> 
> I own nothing but an unusually vivid and somewhat kinky imagination.

_It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons. ~Johann Schiller_

  
“And stop acting like a child! You’re not being a burden. Your sons love you and this is the right thing for them to do, and if you weren’t so self-centered you’d see it. Now you stop being so ungrateful or when that cast comes off I’ll put you in another one!”

John Winchester resisted the urge to point out that he hadn’t said anything, dammit.

“And I heard that too!” snapped Missouri Moseley. “I swear, John Winchester, you’re worse than the two of your sons put together!”

John’s mouth crinkled upward in a smile. “I guess I can’t argue with that one,” he said, pride resonating in his voice. “They’re damn good boys, both of them.”

“Your Dean’s going to be the death of me,” Missouri said sharply. “That boy can’t handle himself unless he’s hunting something, John. He has absolutely no people skills.”

“But good aim,” said a cocky voice from behind them. “Look, Dad, we’ve got to get going if we’re going to make South Dakota by eight tonight.”

“Thought you’d decided to stay here until this cast came off,” John said, somewhat suspicious. Dean and Sam stood in the doorway, duffels slung over their shoulders.

“Well, we thought you’d like to see Bobby. You know, get back into the hunt there,” Sam said.

“You boys aren’t giving me trouble, Sam,” Missouri said more gently.

“Boys are right; it’s time we moved on,” John agreed, barely containing the excitement in his voice. Moving on, getting back into the hunt…even if Dean was driving, he was ready to leave that second.

The psychic wasn’t fooled by his casual tone. “John Winchester, if I hear one whisper about you not taking care of yourself until you’ve healed…” she said threateningly, and John wondered again how such a small, sweet woman could strike such fear into his heart. “That goes for you boys too,” she added. “You take care of your daddy, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said quickly. Sam snickered.

“Boy, I’ll take my spoon to you too if you don’t listen to me,” Missouri warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said, but his eyes twinkled. It was a look John hadn’t seen on the face of his youngest in years, and his heart tightened. _Missouri’s right,_ he thought. _It’s good for them to slow down, good for them to have a break._

Missouri gave him a knowing smile, but it was nothing compared to one of Dean’s smirks.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked, standing up carefully to avoid jostling his arm. “One of you boys can get my things and we’ll be on our way.”

***

“There’s no sign of him, Johnny,” Bobby said firmly.

John’s frustration only grew. “There has to be something, some sort of mutilation, cattle death, disease, anything!” he snapped.

“Not belonging to this one,” Bobby shot back. “You boys gave it one hell of a scare. It’s underground now, waiting for you to lower your guard.”

“Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it? So what do we do now, sit around until it feels like showing up again?”

Bobby fixed him with a look. “Winchester, if you weren’t in that dang cast we’d be having ourselves one hell of a problem,” he said. “As it is, I’m not going to chase you off my property until you could shoot back if you felt like it. But you wouldn’t tolerate that attitude from Dean or Sammy, and I sure as hell ain’t going to tolerate it from you.”

“Sorry,” said John, leaning back and closing his eyes briefly. “It’s just too damn bad the kid didn’t kill it while he had the chance.”

“It’s over now and I don’t want to hear another word about it,” Bobby said sharply. “Now this sonuvabitch may be laying low, but there’s plenty of demons and evil spirits in the meantime, and you and the boys should be able to start in two, three weeks.”

“Boys can go now, I’ll leave once my cast is off,” John said.

“They won’t.”

John’s eyes snapped open again. “What do you mean, they won’t?”

“Dean’s just as stubborn as his old man,” Bobby said with a slight chuckle. “Said you weren’t going to give them the slip again and they weren’t going anywhere until you all went together. Said you were stronger as a family.”

And John, initially angry, thought about Dean’s blind obedience, his following orders and the way he had almost lost control when asked about Sam’s visions. He thought about Sam, and the smile that had been absent from his life for so long. He swore under his breath, but nodded.

“It’ll be two weeks, not three,” he said firmly. “Then we’ll get out of here.”

“I don’t mind the company,” Bobby began, but John shook his head.

“We’re in the middle of something big. Safest place for us to be is the road.”

It was, after all, their only home. And they would travel it together, come hell, high water, or any combination thereof.


	2. Outtake: Learning To Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an "outtake" from the introduction to my John-lives!AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after I posted my John AU stories, a commenter told me she would love to see a story where John got spanked. I took that as a personal challenge. This chapter therefore contains Bobby spanking John when John proves less than willing to leave the demon alone, heal, and be there for his sons. You may take it or leave it if it is not your cup of tea; the other stories do not reference it.

“Guess this is the one that got away, John,” Bobby sighed, sitting down beside John on the couch.

John’s head snapped around angrily. “What the hell do you mean?” he asked in a tone that would have made a lesser man flinch and back down. But Bobby wasn’t so easily intimidated.

“Come on, now, Johnny, surely you don’t think this sonuvabitch is just gonna wait around for you to get back on its trail,” he said.

“Well, why not?” John snapped.

“Because you got damn close to killing the thing, that’s why not,” said Bobby. “Demons aren’t as dumb as you think they are. It’ll be laying low for awhile.”

“ _Goddammit_!” John swore. He paused a moment, then looked up at his friend. “You know we had that bastard cornered,” he said. “Did the boys tell you what happened?”

“Dean said it was possessing you,” Bobby said. “But I don’t see how you were going to kill it, John, and that’s a fact. Demon like that can’t be exorcised without one hell of a priest.”

“Or,” John said slowly, “a gun and a silver bullet made by Samuel Colt.”

Bobby sat forward, his eyes bright with interest. “So you have the Colt,” he said.

“Daniel Elkins had it,” said John. “The vampire hunter.”

“I met him once,” said Bobby. “Heard he was killed and you smoked out the nest.”

“That’s right,” said John. “And that’s when we went after the demon.”

He proceeded to tell Bobby about his stint trying to outrun the demons in the warehouse, about his capture and about his possession. “And so then Dean shot the host right between the eyes,” he finished.

“With one of the bullets,” Bobby supplied. “I’m guessing that didn’t go over too well.”

John shrugged. “I wasn’t conscious,” he said grudgingly. “Kid ought to have had his butt tanned for that.”

“So you were still possessed. What happened next?” Bobby asked. He was obviously interested, and who wouldn’t be? This demon was real evil, much more malevolent than any vengeful spirit or any lesser monsters.

“We stopped at a cabin on the way,” said John. “Bill Hanover’s old place. You know it.”

Bobby nodded, encouraging John to continue.

“Well, Dean knew it wasn’t me,” John said. His eyes dropped at the memory. He had been conscious for that, for the demon taunting his boys, torturing them. He remembered the blood seeping down Dean’s shirt, and his son’s pleading for him to make it stop. He didn’t need to tell Bobby about that. “So then Sam got the gun. I was able to take control, try to hold him there inside me so Sam could shoot him, but…he wouldn’t do it.” And that was even harder to think about, so that John could feel the anger bubbling inside him. _How could Sam have been that goddamn stupid?_ “He couldn’t kill me to get rid of the demon. Couldn’t end it. He was too weak.”

“Now, I’m sure he was doing all he could,” Bobby said uncomfortably.

“No.” John shook his head. “I told him to shoot me, and goddammit, he disobeyed me. If Dean had had the gun it would all have been over.”

“And so would your life,” Bobby said, studying John intently.

“It would be worth it,” John said with absolute certainty.

“You can’t blame your boys for not wanting to lose their daddy,” Bobby said.

“If Sam had just done what I told him to do, that sonuvabitch would be dead,” John said.

“I don’t want you blaming Sam for that,” Bobby said sharply. “That demon’s hell to fight, and it’s a wonder you Winchesters got as far as you did.”

“We’re going to kill it,” John vowed. “But we should be done with it…”

“John Winchester,” Bobby said firmly, “I don’t want to hear it and I ain’t going to put up with it, cast or no cast. And you ought to be resting anyway.”

“What am I, an invalid?” John asked.

“You’re damn lucky to be alive,” Bobby returned, “and as long as you’re in my house it’s going to stay that way. Now get yourself into bed.”

“Yes, sir,” John said mockingly.

“That’s more like it,” said Bobby, folding his arms and glaring at John as the other man walked slowly to the back bedroom.

***

  
“There’s no sign of him, Johnny,” Bobby said firmly.

John’s frustration only grew. “There has to be something, some sort of mutilation, cattle death, disease, anything!” he snapped.

“Not belonging to this one,” Bobby shot back. “You boys gave it one hell of a scare. It’s underground now, waiting for you to lower your guard.”

“Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it? So what do we do now, sit around until it feels like showing up again?”

Bobby fixed him with a look. “Winchester, if you weren’t in that dang cast we’d be having ourselves one hell of a problem,” he said. “As it is, I’m not going to chase you off my property until you could shoot back if you felt like it. But you wouldn’t tolerate that attitude from Dean or Sammy, and I sure as hell ain’t going to tolerate it from you.”

“Sorry,” said John, leaning back and closing his eyes briefly. “It’s just too damn bad the kid didn’t kill it while he had the chance.”

“It’s over now and I don’t want to hear another word about it,” Bobby said sharply. “Now this sonuvabitch may be laying low, but there’s plenty of demons and evil spirits in the meantime, and you and the boys should be able to start in two, three weeks.”

“Boys can go now, I’ll leave once my cast is off,” John said.

“They won’t.”

John’s eyes snapped open again. “What do you mean, they won’t?”

“Dean’s just as stubborn as his old man,” Bobby said with a slight chuckle. “Said you weren’t going to give them the slip again and they weren’t going anywhere until you all went together. Said you were stronger as a family.”

And John, initially angry, thought about Dean’s blind obedience, his following orders and the way he had almost lost control when asked about Sam’s visions. He thought about Sam, and the smile that had been absent from his life for so long. He swore under his breath, but nodded.

“It’ll be two weeks, not three,” he said firmly. “Then we’ll get out of here.”

“I don’t mind the company,” Bobby began, but John shook his head.

“We’re in the middle of something big. Safest place for us to be is the road.”

“You’re a damn fool, Winchester,” Bobby growled. “And I don’t want to see you trying to get anywhere before that arm of yours is good and healed.”

John glared back at Bobby for a minute before relaxing his squared shoulders. “Dammit, Bobby,” he said finally. “If we’re not out there on the hunt…”

“Then you’ll be resting up so as you can do a good job once you’re back on your feet,” Bobby said.

John gave up, but he could only sit still for so long before getting restless.

***

So it was barely three days later when Bobby, rising early, was startled to see a dark figure carrying his arm awkwardly try to slip out the back door.

“John Winchester!” he barked, putting as much authority as possible into his voice.

John jumped guiltily. _What was Bobby doing up so early…?_ he wondered briefly before putting a hand on the doorknob.

“Bobby,” he said, businesslike and disarming. “I’m just going out for a few hours. I’ll be back for lunch.”

“The hell you will!” said Bobby. “You’re staying right here until you’re out of that cast, and you better not be thinking about that demon.”

“I’ll just be gone for a few hours,” John said, struggling to keep his voice even. “If that. It’s nothing big, just a little research…”

“Bullshit,” said Bobby. “You’re looking into the heat waves in Tempe, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?” John asked, his temper rising. “In case you’d forgotten, Bobby, that demon killed my wife, and I’m not going to lose it again!”

“John, this isn’t your demon,” Bobby insisted. “And you know it, or you would if you weren’t going so stir-crazy.”

“You don’t know that!” John said quickly. “And you’d be going stir-crazy too if you were being shut up here just because of a broken arm…”

“Winchester, you need rest and you know it, too,” said Bobby. “And if you can’t accept that, I’ll have to force you for your own good.”

“You know none of this would be happening if Sam had just killed the damn thing,” John said. He could feel his frustration reaching a boiling point. This wasn’t any kind of life, knowing that the demon was still out there and not being able to do a damn thing about it…

“That’s enough,” Bobby said simply. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, John felt himself being yanked forward as Bobby’s fingers closed around his good arm. He stumbled slightly as Bobby pulled him abruptly into the living room.

“Jesus, Bobby,” he muttered, trying to catch his balance with the duffle swung over his right shoulder, the one with the broken arm.

“Jesus ain’t exactly the word I would have chosen,” said Bobby, easily removing the duffle and tossing it into a corner. He then marched John over to the couch and deposited him on the edge, just like a child.

“Now, John Winchester, I want to know exactly what you’ve been thinking,” he ordered. John could only stare up, shocked, at the other hunter.

“I was just going to look into it,” John said defensively. “You have to understand, Bobby, Sam let it get away and…”

“I told you I didn’t want to hear you blaming Sam any more,” Bobby said. “And you were going off on a hunt without having done the necessary research without alerting me or your sons, when you’re in no condition to drive, let alone go after demons.”

“This demon is my life!” John half-shouted. He was angry and humiliated; couldn’t Bobby understand? “I’m not losing sight of it!”

“Johnny,” Bobby said, sitting down beside him, “sometimes you just got to admit that it’s out of your control and let these things go.”

“I can’t,” John said through gritted teeth.

“Well, then maybe you just need a little extra help,” Bobby said, and he jerked John quickly off-balance, causing the other man to fall over his lap.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” John asked coldly. That tone of voice would have frozen Dean’s blood, but it did nothing to Bobby, who simply adjusted John’s position, facedown over his lap, so that he was wedged in more tightly.

“The way I figure it, you have this coming,” he said simply, placing a heavy hand over the small of John’s back. “You’ve been acting like a spoiled kid, Johnny, and it’s time somebody let you know that you’re too old to get away with it.”

In a sudden violent move John attempted to twist off Bobby’s lap, but the hunter had expected that and held him firmly in place. “I wouldn’t fight this. You just need to get used to the idea, because it’s not changing. Kind of like the demon. It ain’t causing that heat wave in Arizona and you ain’t gonna be seeing it for a while regardless of whether you run off like that.”

John’s entire body was stiff as he tried to gauge the possibility of escape. Apparently Bobby was experienced enough to anticipate the ordinary moves—not surprising since he’d taught most of them to John. As he looked around the room, trying to determine the best exit strategy, he felt something solid smack into his ass. Strategy aside, he bucked upward, trying to push himself to his feet. This was complicated by the fact that his good arm was pressed into Bobby’s stomach, leaving a worthless cast as his only asset.

Bobby’s arm circled more tightly around John’s hips. “I wouldn’t try any more of that, Johnny,” he growled, bringing the mystery object down again. “You see, you’re not getting out of this without a struggle. And if you do much more to that arm…” he paused, laying down a few more sharp swats, “then God only knows how much longer it’ll be in a cast. And I don’t think that’s what you want.”

John felt the spanks land again and again. This was ridiculous…he was a grown man, for God’s sake! But Bobby wasn’t relenting, and he knew that the man was right. Trying to move with that grip keeping him in place could very easily upset the healing bones. “Damn you, Singer,” he cursed. That was the only thing that could have made put up with this, and Bobby knew it.

“You’ll thank me for it when you realize what an ass you’ve been,” Bobby said, and continued spanking.

After about two dozen of the heavy blows, John could feel his rear end heating up, even through his jeans. “God _damn_ it,” he muttered emphatically.

“This getting through to you, Winchester?” Bobby asked. “Because it seems like nothing else I’m doing is.” The swats were coming harder and faster now, and John couldn’t stop himself from squirming experimentally over the man’s knees.

“No, nothing else I’m saying is getting through to you,” Bobby repeated, aiming the spanks nearer to the top of John’s thighs. John really did start to squirm then, but he didn’t get far before Bobby’s iron grip tightened even further. “Johnny, I’d be mighty embarrassed to take down those jeans, but I don’t see that I’d have much trouble with it while you’re in the cast. If I was getting my ass whipped, I’d hold still.”

That was embarrassing enough in itself, so John made an effort to keep still. He found himself focusing instead on Bobby’s voice, rough and determined over the steady smacks.

“As I was saying, nothing I’ve done had seemed to have much of an effect on you. And nothing that psychic did seemed to work either. Hell, even your boys trying to convince you to take care of yourself hasn’t had much of an effect.” Bobby paused, and John had one fleeting hope that the whole thing was over before the lecturing began again, this time in an almost angry tone.

“And while I’m talking about your boys, that’s another problem altogether,” he said. John was surprised to realize that Bobby had been holding back on the previous part of the spanking. Suddenly the flat object landed hard enough to cause him to yelp, startled at the increase in force. He pressed his lips together quickly, but the damage was done. Bobby chuckled softly.

“You’ve noticed how serious I am about this,” he observed, and the spanks continued at the same fast pace, unbearably harder and all landing on the lower portion of John’s buttocks and his upper thighs. And if that wasn’t the most uncomfortable position he’d been in since he was tied to those bedposts….

“You’re being way too hard on Sammy about this,” Bobby said sternly. “I know you wanted to kill that demon, but there’s no boy out there that wouldn’t think twice before he killed his daddy too. And after all those years of you wondering whether the kid actually cared about you, I’d think you’d be grateful that he didn’t want you dead. And it’s tearing him up inside that his daddy’s so ashamed of him. You’re being an ass, John Winchester, and those boys deserve better.”

John pressed his forehead into the worn leather of the couch, trying to block out Bobby’s words and distract himself from the barrage of spanks, but it was impossible. Another cry was caught in his throat, mangled, and although he swallowed he couldn’t get rid of the painful lump. “You’re right,” he mumbled finally, and speaking was as painful as silence had been, even as a few hot tears managed to quietly leak from the corners of his eyes.

“It’s about time you admitted that,” Bobby said gruffly, but the smacks did slow to an almost bearable speed and intensity. “Johnny, that boy needs you right now and you’re not there for him.”

“I wanted to kill that demon…so much…” John forced out the words through gritted teeth, trying desperately to maintain his composure.

Bobby returned the spanks to the tops of his thighs. “I know that, Johnny, but what you’ve got to learn is that sometimes you need to back off. It’s not giving up to admit that you’re not in control on this one, and that letting go doesn’t mean giving up for good. It just means doing the right thing and not letting this obsession destroy the family you’ve got left.”

At those words John flinched; then the tension seemed to flow out of him and he practically collapsed over Bobby’s lap, dead weight. His silent sobs racked his body, the tears flowing freely now. “All I want is to protect them,” he said brokenly. “All I want is to do what’s best for them.”

“Sometimes you just let yourself get sidetracked by the things that you think are important,” Bobby said, and John was able to notice that the spanking had stopped, although Bobby wasn’t moving. “And while hunting that demon is important, Johnny, it’s more important for you to take care of yourself and your family first. And the sooner you learn that, the easier it’ll be on you.”

John let the tears flow, let his quiet cries escape his trembling lips. It wasn’t the pain so much as the fact that Bobby was right, he told himself, although the ache in his bottom might have had something to do with it too.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, once he had cried himself out. “I owe you an apology, Bobby. You’re right. My behavior was inexcusable, and I would have paddled Sam or Dean for doing the same things.”

Bobby lifted his arm from where it had been holding onto John, helping the other man to his feet. “It’s over, John,” he said. “I know you weren’t thinking straight, that’s all there was to it.”

“You made a lot of good points,” John admitted. “As pissed as I was—still am—you were right.”

“Glad you see it that way,” Bobby said quietly. “I’d hate to lose your friendship again, Winchester.”

John shook his head, a ghost of a grin returning to his face. “If I’d had the use of both my arms you’d never have gotten that far,” he said.

“Probably not,” Bobby agreed. “But it’s a damn good thing I did.”

John nodded. “Just tell me, what the hell were you hitting me with?” he asked.

Bobby pointed to the coffee table. A Chinese incense burner lay on top of it. The polished wood was thick and sturdy, almost the equivalent of an old-fashioned ruler. John picked it up, turning it over in his hands. He smacked it experimentally against his thigh.

“Got quite a sting to it,” he said.

“Truth is, I was worried it was going to break on that hard ass of yours,” Bobby said, snorting with laughter. John had to chuckle as well.

“Well, now you know,” he said wryly. “On that note, I may go rest up before breakfast.” He turned to walk back towards Bobby’s guest bedroom, taking his duffle as he went.

“John!” Bobby called. He stopped and turned back around. “The heat wave in Tempe is another demon, one that Joshua’s been tracking. I’d have told you about it if it had been your demon.”

John nodded. “Thanks.” He meant to say more, but he figured Bobby knew what he meant. His friend nodded. That was all they needed to say. It was probably a good thing too, because John Winchester rarely apologized or admitted making a mistake, and he’d done both that morning. Elaborate thank-you’s would have been completely beyond him.


End file.
